


Immiscible

by theunknownfate



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Arguing, Fights, Jumping to Conclusions, M/M, Makeup, Science, saying the wrong thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1401613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunknownfate/pseuds/theunknownfate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fanfiction challenge from over at 31_days: to write a chapter of a fic for every prompt in the month. I came in late and only did the last 11, but here it is. </p>
<p>Hermann and Newt from earlier on to the Drift, to the beginning stages of their relationship and first fight, to the make up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. but the salt's a little painful; I'm a sweet tooth after all

It wasn’t allowed.

The whole situation was as simple as that. He simply could not indulge in this. It was professional. It wasn’t _done_. He wasn’t going to think about it or wish things could be different. That was a waste of time and there was simply not enough time left to waste. The world was ending.

There were lives to be saved and deaths to be avenged. He had work to do, and it was profoundly selfish, childish, and irresponsible to stray from it. Even when he had been writing and reworking the equations for nearly thirteen hours and his hands had cramped and his leg was throbbing, and it had crossed his mind out of nowhere that someone with an understanding of bone structure and nerve pressure could rub his hand and work the pain out of his joints. That was unacceptable. They were both too busy for that. He couldn’t be that weak. Cold and hard was the way of the world now. It was the way he was now, too.

Hermann gave himself a moment to massage his aching hand and leaned against the blackboard to take the weight off his hip. He glanced over at his lab partner, up to the elbows in something horrible and whistling happily about it. It was a riot of color and mess over there. As disgusting as it was, it was probably important, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Neither of them could be spared from their missions, even to comfort each other. Not that Newton would ever need comfort from Hermann. This was all he had ever wanted out of life. He certainly had no reason to want to reach out to a bitter old bag of bones.

A lab tech had said that about Hermann once, muttered it under her breath when he had corrected her once too often. The acoustics in the depths of the Shatterdome were such that he had heard it anyway. He hadn’t reacted. He was above such things. Usually. He had lost his temper and his vocabulary with Newton often enough, but that really couldn’t be helped. That man would drive a saint to expletives. Just his voice could be like salt in an open wound if he tried.

Hermann flexed his fingers one more time, let the pain flare up around his metacarpals until it had no choice but to fade. He was being ridiculous. Even if Newton was willing to help, he would still have to go through a regimen of sterilization to be safe to touch right now. Even if Hermann would allow it, even though it had been his wistful little idea in the first place, there was no point in this line of thought. More reliable and vital thoughts were needed elsewhere.

Cold and hard, he reminded himself again. Comfort was not a luxury to be had right now. Encouragement was not needed. He started back up his ladder, favoring the bad leg since there was no one to see. He spared one more glance to the candy colors at work with tattoos and viscera across from the room and turned back to the black and white in front of him. No more wishing and wanting. It wasn’t allowed, even if he was the one who wouldn’t allow it. And even if it was, if his teeth didn’t ache for sweetness and his bones for warmth, it still wouldn’t be very _likely_.


	2. I'll overflow; who cares how I look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt's POV of previous chapter.

This thing was too much. Too much and nowhere near enough and he was just vibrating with it. God, the possibilities. So many variables and outcomes and he couldn’t talk fast enough to explain it all. Luckily, it didn’t matter because he could think plenty fast enough and if people couldn’t keep up, well they were just lucky to have him there to lead the way.

His glasses started to slip down his nose and he shoved them back with the back of his arm. It left a streak of something oily on his cheek and he waited a second, two, three, and it didn't sting or burn or change color so he dove back into dissecting the latest kaiju sample. It was amazing, absolutely incredible and no one cared, so he was going to make them care if it killed him. Or the kaiju did. Whichever. 

Like this, this thing was cartilaginous _and_ had a pair of swim bladders and it was a total fucking mess because of the oil it stored in glands to help balance the ambient pressure, and luckily enough, it wasn't caustic or anything even if it smelled a little like ambergris. One of those glands had been punctured when the kaiju was killed, and the oil was oozing everywhere. There was so much coating him, he looked like a glazed doughnut. He really should surprise Hermann with a hug later on. 

He snuck a peek over at Hermann. What was he doing over there wringing his hands like somebody’s spinster aunt? He looked like he had bitten into a lemon but that wasn’t unusual. That weird little move he was doing looked like masturbation practice on his own hands. He did have long, slender fingers. Maybe that grimace was actually some kind of well camouflaged O face and _holy shit, speaking of camouflage, this thing had a hidden pneumatic duct!_

There it was, right between the swim bladder and the alimentary canal, which meant they were dealing with something physostomic and also explained how the kaiju had surfaced like a blimp with the capacity to hate and sucked a rescue helicopter right out of the air. He wished there was decent footage of that, he wanted to see if the gills were vestigal or what, but watching it would only make Hermann glare harder. He was doing it now actually. Like Newt couldn’t see him reflected off the chrome tabletop. Heh, if he really was jerking his own fingers off, then why was he staring over here so hard?

There was a joke there somewhere, about Hermann looking kind of like a physostome himself (hah! Make him look that up.) and what he _should_ be doing with those long, perfect fingers, and OK, that was definitely off track. That thought sent all the blood rushing to his head. He rubbed his ear on his shoulder when it started to burn. Stupid sympathetic nervous reaction. 

"I'm calling this one Goodyear," he said loudly to cover it up. Hermann was halfway up his ladder by then. He just grunted by way of answer. Why did a guy with a limp and either early osteoarthritis or carpal tunnel syndrome acting up insist on clambering up and down on a friggin' ladder? It didn't make any sense at all. Newt started to say something about that, but as soon as he opened his mouth again, he could taste the oil. It tasted like it smelled. 

He bleched and went to rinse his mouth out. Still no tingling or burning, so the stuff must really be just grease. He had to pass the other new pieces on the way. There was a whole chunk full of chemoreceptors from the thing’s face. He couldn’t wait to get into that and ran his hands excitedly through his hair before he remembered how messy he was. Blech. Now he was going to have to rinse off completely.

Man, if only the jocks in the giant robot hadn’t completely destroyed the caudal and cranial portions, he might’ve been able to tell where the oil was coming from. Goodyear had barbels, and scutes, and a mucus membrane and probably used cutaneous respiration. He was already planning how to excavate one of the receptors. Maybe it would still react if he could find the right chemical mix to expose them to. 

The emergency shower was cold enough to make him yelp and Hermann nearly fell off his perch when he heard it. Newt had to grin at him. He was was fully dressed in under the spray because who cared? and his hair was plastered down and dripping around his ears. 

"There was nothing to say a kaiju like this couldn’t move into freshwater with no problems at all," he said. His clothes were soaked too. He would never get out of his pants now. They were tight enough dry. Hermann raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Newt decided that it was in response to the statement and not his physique. "I mean, sure, it's still too big to pull it off stealthily, but if they could go smaller, like 150% smaller and then move in packs, they would be about a 1000% worse than snakeheads, no matter what cheaptastic horror movie was made about them."

"Horror _was_ what I was thinking of," Hermann sighed, but Newt didn't hear him. He had left the shower running and gone back to work with the notion that an immiscible layer of water might keep the oil off better.


	3. the petals look like little hearts

It was the Drift. It hadn't just synched them, it had laid them bare. Everything else would've been fine. They could finally make sense of each other after years and years of bouncing off each other. Like protons! Newt cheered. Like a squeaky toy in a centrifuge, Hermann grumbled back. 

The grumbles and cheers didn't work anymore though. Hermann knew very well how shaken and traumatized Newt really was. And Newt knew that keeping up surly appearances was all that had kept Hermann on his feet for far too long. That wasn't even the problem. 

The real problem was all of the other things, the glimpses, the flashes of moments stolen from the day that neither of them had meant to think or say. Even through all the trauma and upheaval, those little bits wormed their way to the surface when they should've stayed buried deep. No one, especially Hermann, was supposed to know that ruffling his hair would not only improve that haircut but give an excuse just to touch it, or that the uneven angles and agitated movements of his body would fit perfectly between Newt's arms and torso, or how enticing the bony knob of his ankle was when he stretched to write a little higher and seriously, how Victorian was that? Or that the fact that he was still so scrappy and bad-tempered in the face of all the pain and fear layering him even more than all those stupid clothes had made him a hero long before this.

And Newt was certainly never supposed to realize that his eyes were the greenest things down in this basement of a lab, closest thing to life and sunshine, that the color and animation and the hope were such a guilty pleasure after the flat wall of black and white staring back at him with carefully calculated doom all over it. Or what a relief it was to see Newt's brilliance at work, even if it was sloppy and loud. That Hermann wasn't alone with the fate of the universe and that Newt had let in the possibility of possibility. Hermann had spent the majority of his life dealing in absolutes and now there was this... mess. 

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he said out loud. He probably could've screamed it. The post-apocalypse cancellation celebration was still vibrating all the walls around them. He didn't mean the success, the winning. He had worked too long for that. But, the confusion of what to do then, the completely unhoped for prospect of maybe having something afterwards had him unsteady and looking for patterns. There was a way to make sense of this. His mathematician instincts flew wide to find it. 

"I'm glad it did," Newt said. "And don't even deny it. You don't want to go back either." He was grinning from ear to ear, despite the tears gathered in his eyes, despite the pain Hermann can still feel in the back of his mind. 

Hermann just looked at him for a moment. He wasn't sure if this was some sort of adrenaline-fueled delusion or if the strain of having his mind laid open had forced it into some bizarre emotional pareidolia, but now he could see all the ways their past actions had brought them to this. All the intestines splattered on his desk might as well have been flowers ( look what I found you, I was thinking of you), all of his complaints might as well have been sonnets (I notice everything you do, you are not alone in this). Was it more likely that he was just out of his mind?

"No," he said, answering both questions and leaning in. His leg might've been finally giving out or he might've just needed to rest his head against Newt's. Either way his heartbeat was too loud. Unless it was Newt's he could hear pounding in his own veins. The arms that Newt had been sure would fit perfectly did go around him just so. There was probably a kiss happening somewhere in there too. Or maybe one of them was just thinking about it. 

He aimed his lips at the skin nearest them just to end that debate. Newt squirmed around to get his own mouth in the way, and that fit too. It wasn't like synching all over again, but it was still better than not touching, and the symmetry of it soothed the geometric part of his head that still needed answers.


	4. a quartet that love sings

It began tentatively. Neither of them were sure how much or how far was allowed and neither wanted to be the first to make a mistake. There was finally time. They could finally see who they actually were without the constant inevitably of annihilation hanging over them. Certain destruction was warily giving way to an uncertain future. There were a few things that seemed pretty definite. Newt had been sure of four of them. He was pretty happy about them all. 

He was convinced that he and yes, Hermann, had saved the world. The whole world. Not just this particular patch. All of it. Every last human being alive on the planet was alive because of them. The world would've been overrun and eaten and the human race would've been wiped out and it hadn't. Because of him. Them. Because of them. After so long of being barely taken seriously and borderline being despised even when he was, his ego couldn't help but grow three sizes that day. Let Hermann be polite about it. Newt was going to cram it into ever face that ever sneered and do it with a song in his heart. 

He was also certain they hadn't really put themselves out of a job. It was the talking heads in all the media that bickered and dickered without ever actually producing anything that would be left without a niche in this new environment, the self-righteous bastards. They had gained power and influence, profited from the kaiju, all the while being even less use than the kaiju's parasites. At least skin mites served a purpose. He was going to positively relish seeing those suits scrambling to kiss the right ass to keep from being kicked to the curb. 

He was also positive that they hadn't seen the last of the Kaiju or their masters. The Breach had been opened out of nowhere before, it could be opened again. And who was gonna be the undisputed genius/expert/rock star once again? This time with hard core proof and very visible, worldwide acclaim? Oh yeah. The lifestyle he had become accustomed to would be all that much sweeter. 

And he had been fairly certain that he was going to be the one leading this new dance with Hermann. Sure, he wasn't the most suave Gomez Addams around, but nobody who shook hands as awkwardly as Hermann did was very used to physical contact. From anyone. Ever. There hadn't been any very meaningful relationships visible in the Drift. And ok, maybe Newt didn't have that much to brag about either, he'd been too young, too smart, too annoying for most of his career, but he figured his animal magnetism and overall enthusiasm and yeah, the biological know-how, would carry the day. 

He hadn't expected to be completely blown out of the water. He had fantasized about what Hermann's hands, lips, and voice could do to him, but he was completely unprepared for the reality. It wasn't even intentional. For once, Hermann wasn't trying to show him up. He was just touch-starved and making up for lost time. And he did. While they were supposed to be packing, that last night in their barracks before the Shatterdome closed, the first night in the place that would eventually feel like theirs, and in between their appearances at conferences, once just offstage. 

It left Newt overheated and breathless and just digging every second of it. He had thought that being up to his armpits in frequently-occurring mountains of awesome was the good life, but this was pretty much bliss. He was still almost always the smartest person in the room, and was getting it regular from the only other person with a claim to the title. He really couldn't imagine it getting any better than this, which meant he had to be sure he didn't screw it up, even if his mistakes always did bring a smile to Hermann's face.


	5. "for both our sakes" is hiding her face and crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some swearing and a lot of yelling and jumping to conclusions and hurting each others feelings.

It hadn't taken long for the hero worship to fade out as people got back to work on their lives. Hermann was relieved to have the attention move on. He had work to get back to also. Newt took it a little harder, but he had always battled for the most attention, and that was nothing new. The trouble with taking all the credit, was that you were the only one in sight when the blame came around.

Newt had been eager to tell exactly what he had done and how he had done it. He had probably set the neural science world ahead twenty years, to say nothing of the possibility of being able to access another dimension. But then someone had questioned the timeline. Cherno Alpha and Crimson Typhoon had never failed before, but less than 24 hours after someone who knew the jaegers and their weaknesses had touched minds with the kaiju, two monsters who might as well have been tailor made to take them down emerged. 

It was ridiculous, of course. There simply hadn't been time, based on what Hermann himself had seen of the Anteverse, to create those monstrosities specifically to fight those jaegers. More likely they had been a long time coming. And they had fit his predictive model, so it wasn't completely one-sided. Newt had been crushed to have fallen from grace so brutally, especially when it was wrong and he wasn't. He fought back, but the only thing multitudes turned on quicker than a savior was a traitor. 

Hermann had known Newt was upset. He had felt it churning in his own stomach and burning in his own veins. The secondhand hurt and the anger and the indignation had been driving him crazy for days, but it didn't really alarm him until some self-loathing twinges made him wonder if Newt was actually starting to believe it. 

"You can't really blame yourself," Hermann said. It was too condescending, too smug, as if he knew better. He realized that as soon as he said it, but it wasn't the worst thing he had ever said, and he trusted that Newt would know what he meant. The sudden blaze of fierce, conflicting emotions that answered that nearly knocked him down.

"How about if I blame YOU??" Newt shrieked back. "Maybe if you had been there, had done it with me first, we could've found enough, in time, to save all of them!" Hermann was gasping like a fish. He could barely breathe around the wrath and the grief and the panicked need to make this right, or at least not be wrong. "if you had trusted me!" Newt was ranting, not even looking at him anymore. "If you had just believed me…"

It was clearly irrational and he probably needed to be told off and comforted, and Hermann could tell that Newt probably knew that, but had latched onto the old default anger and self-righteousness. Hermann could barely stand it before when he wasn't privy to every emotion involved. As it was, he had to put some distance between them. He couldn't be the voice of reason with all that hammering away at him. He was out of practice with his cold and hard mantra, but he managed to throw up enough of a wall between him that he could pull himself upright and inhale. 

Newt felt the resistance and of course, he took it as a rejection. He was screaming again, this time with tears streaming down his face. 

"Stop acting like you always hated me! You always act like you always hated me and I know you didn't, I know you don't! Just stop it!!" He turned and made as if to lunge toward Hermann and then lurched to a stop, eyes going wide as he realized how bad Hermann actually looked. Hermann was shaking from the onslaught, barely holding himself up. He was paler than usual and the veins in that one eye had burst, staining it even more red. 

"It's always someone else's fault," Hermann said, with all the self control he could muster. The effort was obvious, even to Newt, whose face crumpled again. "It might as well be mine."

"Stop acting like the problem is ME!" Newt shrilled again, but there were more tears and he was trying so hard to be angry so he wouldn't go to pieces that Hermann had to grit his teeth and refuse to be pulled apart with him. 

"Newton!" he hissed. "I really think it would be for the best-" He sucked in another breath to keep his own tears back. "For both our sakes-" That was as far as he got before Newt exploded. Hermann's wall crumbled. 

"Oh SURE! Why fucking NOT? It was never going to work, we were never going to MAKE it. What? You and me and happily ever after? Not LIKELY. Can I be the asshole here and insist that YOU have to move out since I don't know, my name's first on the lease or, or no. You know what? Watching you try to limp around with a cane AND a box of sweater vests is more pathetic than funny. So I'll go. I'll just go and you'll never have to see or smell or HEAR any of-"

That's when Hermann staggered and barely made the nearest trash can before vomiting his guts out and Newt finally stopped. Hermann shuddered and sobbed and retched and then used the wall to claw back up to standing. If he had looked bad before, he looked like Death warmed over now. He was shellshocked and devastated and Newt was finally realizing it. 

"That's what you were saying though," he tried to insist. "Wasn't it? Hermann?"

Hermann couldn't see through his own tears now. He wasn't sure where his cane had fallen. He couldn't breathe or speak and all he could think of was escape. He started for the door, still clinging to the wall. He couldn't take this. He couldn't process. Everything hurt and blurred and he had to get away from it. 

"Oh my God," Newt said. He grabbed two handfuls of his own hair. "Oh my God, Hermann. You weren't- That's not- What were you going to say?" His voice was lost and dazed now. "Oh shit, Hermann. Hermann, wait!" He tried to scramble after, but Hermann had thrown himself bodily into the elevator and pushed the button with all the strength he had left. The door slid shut, leaving Newt looking at his own stunned and heartbroken reflection.


	6. even if we're apart, I'll shine again

I was wrong. 

Those were the only three words on the text and he sent them over and over again. 

He hadn't just been wrong, though. There were whole layers of not right to this. He had not only been mistaken, but he had behaved abominably based on that mistake, and might very well have ruined the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Hermann hadn't answered yet. Every moment he didn't felt like a day. Newt sat there cradling his phone, waiting and hoping. He was supposed to go on stage in just a few minutes to give his presentation and he knew it by heart, knew it front and back, and it didn't matter if he was booed or heckled, he'd been talking over naysayers his whole life. And it would be amazing. He was gonna blow their minds right out of their thick skulls. But maybe, the phone would chime while he was out there and it would be Hermann, and he could answer it right there in front of everybody.

He scrubbed the heel of his hand into his red eye. He shouldn't have had to ask what Hermann was going to say. He should've felt it. If he hadn't been so busy cramming his (soontobeexpleasegodno) boyfriend's head with his own spoiled brat meltdown, he might've been able to tell what Hermann had been trying to tell him before Newt had (godwhy?I'mageniushowcouldyouletmebesostupid) practically broken up with him.

He fumbled for the phone again, tapping the little call icon so hard it beeped in protest. Hermann didn't pick up and Newt didn't expect it. He held his breath until it went to voicemail and then just exhaled it all in a rush.

"IwaswrongIwaswrong, Hermann, andI'msorrysosorry. Ineedyoutocomegloatandrubmynoseinit.Ineedyoutocome. Come back. Comebacktomeplease. I-" He sucked in another breath. Now was the time to say something about love or need, but he had no idea how Hermann would take it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the announcer waving at him. Time to shine. He knew what always meant the most to Hermann in their bickering past. "I was wrong," he said again, and then waited until the time ran out and the phone beeped again. 

Maybe Hermann would be out there watching. Newt could pretend he was, just to put on his best show. He meant to put the phone in his pocket on the way out on stage, but it was still tight in his hand when he started his speech.


	7. let's play hide and seek with the world

Hermann hadn't been able to stay away from the presentation. He didn't know why he was tormenting himself. Was he really hoping Newt would be too upset to do it? Of course not. Hermann knew how upset Newt really was. He could still feel it through the Drift. It had taken Hermann most of the next day to realize that the heartbreak crushing him wasn't entirely his own. 

So now he was lurking outside one of the doors, not quite ready to see Newt yet. Listening to his voice helped a little bit, and finally Hermann snuck a peek. Newt was in his usual haze of noisy brilliance and only Hermann would have been able to detect the strain. It was in his posture and the set of his eyes. He was also clutching his silly bright pink phone with the rabbit ears sticking off the case. Why did he have his phone out? He wasn't looking at it. The screen wasn't lit, but he was clutching it like a lifeline. 

Hermann realized that he had no idea where his own phone was. It might still be in the lab, on his desk. His cane was still there too. He was using his spare, but it wasn't quite right. Someone in the crowd shouted an actually relevant question and Newt shouted back the answer. His eyes were flicking over the people, but he wasn't looking for the questioner. 

_He's looking for me_ , Hermann thought and he saw Newt glance again, maybe picking up on that thought. If Hermann was going to avoid him much more, now would be the time to duck back out into the hallway and go wherever it was he thought he could hide. If he stayed there much longer, Newt would know it, would see him. 

_I want him back more than I want to punish him_ , Hermann knew. He wrestled with it for a few more minutes. He was beginning to be aware of a sensation in his head. Newt knew he was there and thinking about him. _He would track me down through our connection eventually. If he wanted to. And I want him to want to._ So Hermann stepped completely into the doorway and stood there. 

The place was packed. Standing room only, but it only took a moment for Newt to look straight at him. Hermann wondered if he should smile just to be encouraging, but his lips weren't cooperating. They trembled and wobbled and he had to look down to get a grip on himself. Newt's lecture didn't even stutter, but his expression was entirely different when Hermann managed to look up again. There was anguish there and hope, even while he went on and on about biostructures being able to withstand dimensional portals. 

Their eye contact was overwhelming even across such a crowded room. Hermann finally couldn't bear it. He raised pinkie and thumb to his ear in the traditional 'call me' pose, and held it until he was sure Newt saw it. Then, he went to go find his phone and wait.


	8. a café latte as my apology

There were forty-nine messages on his phone when Hermann got to it. The fact that it wasn't an even fifty bothered him for a moment, but not as much as the asymmetry of the battery icon heading toward low. He plugged it in and looked around for his cane. It wasn't there. Had he actually flung it from himself when he had broken down? No. 

Thankfully, someone had changed the trash out since he had thrown up in it. He was embarrassed until he remembered that worse things had been cleaned out of this room, and they had been Newt's fault every time. Still no sign of his cane, so he sat down to grumble and check the phone again. He made sure all the times for the messages were from earlier and they hadn't been left during the presentation. He took a breath and started reading them. 

The first one was an apology and something else too misspelled for Hermann to even tell what it said. The rest where all apologies and it was easy to imagine Newt stuttering them out rather than just typing them over and over. The most recent one was a voice mail, sent just a couple hours earlier. Hermann thought about it for a moment. 

He wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. Had Newt gotten angry when 48 previous apologies had been ignored and decided to snap at him through voicemail? If the message was something angry and accusing (again) he might not be able to bear it. If he hadn't run like a weeping school girl, he could've answered the first message and there wouldn't be this uncertainty now. He sighed and pushed play.

It was babbling, more babbling, high-pitched and desperate. Even if his heartstrings weren't already yanked all out of place, this would've twisted them. Newt shouldn't have to plead like this. For anything. Especially not for word from someone old before his time, and bitter and gray and crippled, no tattoos, no color, no life as Newt probably recognized it. Hermann knew this was unfair, but was too miserable in that moment to be sure who it was unfair to. 

The phone buzzed in his hand, startling him out of his funk. It was Newt, of course, so he took a few breaths to steady himself and pushed Accept. Newt started talking before he could.

"Where are you? My show's over and I thought you might be in the hallway, but you're not,and I can tell you're close and I can tell you feel terrible, but I can't- I - Where are you?"

"I'm in the lab," Hermann said. He sounded feeble even to his own ears and hated it. 

"Stay there!" Newt said. "I'm in the lobby. I'm on the way. I'll, I'll grab you a coffee, ok? Just stay there until I get there."

Hermann could've argued or just said that he didn't want any damn coffee, but he was suddenly exhausted. 

"Fine," he said. He felt a pang as if Newt had come back into easy range for their connection. Newt thought he sounded wrong too and was worried. Hermann hung up so Newt wouldn't be able to ask until he got there.


	9. I'm inedibly bitter

Hermann had been thin and frowny as long as Newt had known him, but this was the first time Newt wondered why. He hurried into the lab, feeling the latte slosh on the inside of the sealed cup as he took the corner. Hermann was there, which was a stab of relief, but he looked broken and sad, which years of war and pain and loss hadn't managed to do. _But I did_ , Newt thought. _I did this._

When they had first met, reducing each other to this would've been a victory. Now, it just felt shameful. He held the coffee out, but Hermann didn't take it. He set it down on the desk. Hermann hadn't even started to stand up. He just sat in his chair, so Newt grabbed his chair and pulled it over to sit in front of him. 

"What I said before," he said, trying to beat any argument, even though it looked like Hermann had nothing to say. "I didn't mean any of that." 

"You're forgetting that I could feel what you were feeling," Hermann said, speaking slowly. He leaned forward to press their foreheads together. It should've been sweet and Newt would've moved to kiss him if he hadn't felt all the way to his marrow that kissing was the last thing on Hermann's mind right now. "And you meant every word."

"No," Newt said. "No, let me explain. I don't deserve it. I completely blew a fuse without hearing you out before, but I want you to know _why_. I mean-"

"You don't have to say anything," Hermann sighed. He hadn't even looked at the coffee. "As hard as that will be for you." He started to pull away, but Newt grabbed his arms.

"Everybody leaves me!" Newt nearly shouted. "And I know you will eventually. Eventually it won't be worth it and you'll leave. " Hermann blinked at him. Newt's face crumpled and he rolled his neck, all awkward and painful. "You'll have enough and be gone and we won't even have what we had before because I'll have ruined that too. I know it. It never killed me before. But. I think. When it's you, it might. So. The only defense is to leave first. I thought you were going to say it was for the best if we split up. So you wouldn't be associated with the maybe-traitor, maybe worst failure than even you ever thought. So you wouldn't be dragged down with me." He shuddered and ducked his head against Hermann's chest.

"So you panicked," Hermann said. "And said it first."

Newt nodded. His misery felt like pressure behind Hermann's eyes. Newt knew very well he always ruined things. He had said as much and all the past memories of it swirled around the edges of the Drift connection. 

"I had braced for much the same thing," Herman said. "Even if my limitations didn't become tiresome for able-bodied people." He swallowed and his fingers tightened on his leg. "My job and indeed, my very nature, has been to find the mistake or the failing and fix it. It serves well for equations. Less so with people. And we both know I can't fix you. I." He swallowed again and Newt felt his own throat tighten. "I don't want to. You're going to be fine. The rock star, remember?" He grimaced and it was supposed to be a smile. He gave it up and slumped again. "And I am going to be exactly what I've always been."

He pulled back to gesture briefly at himself, all bones and tweed and fastened buttons. Sour and alone. Like he had been before and would be again. The certainty of it and the resignation made Newt cringe, but he lunged to grab both his hands. 

"Good," he said. "That's what I want. You, the way you've always been. If I cared about the nagging and the limp, you would've heard about it before now."

"Dr. Geis-" Hermann began with a sigh.

"No! Don't you dare start that again!" Newt held Hermann's hands to his head, letting their connection hum through the contact. "If you felt it before you can feel it now," he insisted. "I couldn't lie to you if I tried. You _know_ I don't care about any of that. You _know_ what I want. You _know_ how sorry I am!" 

Hermann closed his eyes, but Newt felt all the things flickering behind them. He let go of his hands and cradled his jaw to bring their foreheads back together. 

"You said you were braced for it. But you weren't then. It wouldn't have knocked you down so hard. I did that to you and I'd take it back if I could. I won't ask you to forgive me. Just let me make it up to you. Take me back. Let me try."

"It was like being ready for the punch to the face and getting kicked in the stomach instead," Hermann said faintly. His eyes opened and they looked at each other. Newt was trying hard not to cry again, but his eyes were red and shiny. His lips were pulled tight to keep from quivering and Hermann had been fighting that feeling so long that he didn't need the connection to know how it felt. It wasn't often they matched so well, and symmetry always made him feel a little better. So he pressed a kiss against them and let the rest of Newt slam into him like a tidal wave like he knew it would.

Newt wrapped all around him, making Hermann's chair tilt dangerously backwards. His hands were scrabbling all over and the kiss deepened into something desperate. Hermann went with it. It was such a relief after all the misery that he didn't even mind the weight on his legs or the creak of the glasses around his neck being crushed between them or even the taste in Newt's mouth. 

"You took a drink of the coffee you brought me," Hermann accused when they came up for air. His arms stayed tight around him. 

"I had to be sure it was good," Newt said. He had some tear tracks on his face, but was smiling through them now. "You're bitter enough."


	10. but the truth is that I want to tell you this.

Eventually, they had to get up. Hermann's leg was starting to throb. They got more or less upright, but didn't move apart. Even with Newt's support though, Hermann looked around for his cane. 

"I need to find-" he began and Newt started nodding.

"It's in our room." he said. Hermann arched an eyebrow for an explanation. "When you beat me to the elevator, I had to wait for the next one, and I didn't know where you gotten off, and I figured you might go to our room, so I took it there, and then you weren't there, and I thought you had to come back eventually. I mean, all your meds are there and, and stuff, so you would have to come back. But…" He hung his head and shifted. His fingers plucked at the sleeve of Hermann's clean dress shirt. "You didn't."

"I have a spare set of everything in a bug out bag," Hermann said, smiling a little. "I keep it in the storage room by the emergency exit."

"That's a really good idea," Newt said, actually looking impressed. Hermann didn't quite have the energy to be smug, but he could agree.

"I know."

"Hey," Newt said next. He looked like he wasn't sure he should bring it up, but as usual, went ahead anyway. "Will you tell me what you were going to say? Right before I had my meltdown?" Hermann blinked and then looked away. Newt say his throat bob with a gulp. 

"You don't have to," he said quickly. "I mean, it might not even apply anymore after-"

"Give me a moment," Hermann said. "Let me remember."

"Oh come on, you don't forget anything." Newt said. Hermann winced. 

"I have to go over the conversation again," he said. "And I've shied away from that."

"Oh." Newt looked guilty again. Normally, putting him in his place would've been satisfying, but Hermann wanted this to be over. Newt pressed on, though. "Ok.Well, um. I was yelling about it not being my fault."

"Ah." Hermann said. He didn't want to discuss this, but Newt was doing the hard part.

"And then you pulled yourself up all huffy, like you do," Newt went on. Hermann made an indignant sound. "You do! And you said, um, something about it would really be for the best if-" He trailed off, shoulders going tense. He squeezed in close again and shuddered. 

"If we left," Hermann said quickly, not wanting to see him break down again. "I thought it would be best if got away for awhile. Both of us. Not to another facility or anything like that. Just a trip. A vacation, I suppose. To give us some time to ourselves and some distance."

"But not from each other," Newt said, eyes going from grieved to hopeful. 

"I don't do well when we are apart." It was painful for Hermann to admit it. Newt tackled him in another hug.

"Oh God, me neither!" he gasped. "I was on autopilot all through the lecture and I couldn't put the phone down in case you called…"

"I wouldn't interrupt your presentation," Hermann said, but he was starting to think maybe he should've. 

"I'm glad you came," Newt said. "I mean, it hurt to look up and see you there and not be sure, but it was still better, you know? Like popping a joint back into socket."

"Ugh," Hermann remembered his hip being dislocated. Pushing it back in had been blindingly painful. 

"Listen." Newt pulled his chin down to look him in the eye. "I love you. A lot. And I will say sorry forever for the way I acted. I swear I only said it because I thought you were going to say it first." He buried his face in Hermann's chest and took a shuddering breath. "Your idea was better."

"Of course it was." Hermann rubbed his back. "You should know that by now." It was meant teasingly and Newt was smiling when he looked up again. 

"Where are you going to take me?" he asked. 

"Where would be good for you?" Hermann asked. Newt shrugged and snuggled back under his chin.

"Surprise me." It was muffled in Hermann's collar. 

"Really?" Hermann wasn't sure what to make of a passive, agreeable Newt. Not that he wouldn't enjoy it for a little while.

"Anywhere," Newt agreed. "We can go to the Museum of Mathematics if you want. Or, I don't know, to see the world's biggest protractor. I don't care. Just hold my hand and don't let me wander off."

"All right," Hermann said. He was strangely moved by that and even more so when a hand slid into his hair and pulled him closer.

"Ever. Ok?" It was just a whisper, but Hermann shivered and couldn't find his voice for a moment. Newt felt it and looked up worriedly. 

"Too much to ask?" he said. Hermann was shaking his head by the first two words.

"No," he said. "No. It's just that you beat me to it again."


	11. my favorite kind's not cheesecake, it's shortcake with a strawberry on top

Hermann might love predictable, but Newt loved a surprise. So Hermann calculated all the places that he was certain Newt would enjoy and would therefore expect. Then, he worked out all the places that would be just as fun, but more of a surprise. He narrowed it down to three and they were all within driving distance of each other, so they could decide when they got there.

He told Newt the basics, when they were leaving, how long they'd be gone, that he would need a swimsuit _and_ warm clothes. Also some snacks. No, not camping. Maybe a pool. Newt had been delighted and intrigued and asking questions and packing days early out of excitement. Hermann hoped he would like the trip too. 

"Will I need a snorkel??" Newt bellowed from the back room. Hermann pretended to think about it.

"Probably not," he said. "But you never know." That was completely out of character and they both knew it. Newt peeked out to pretend to glare. Hermann didn't even try not to smirk. 

The top of Mt. Joy in New Mexico had escaped the devastation from Trespasser's attack, and there was an inn up there that had been one of the most glorious stargazing spots anywhere. Hermann had wanted to go for years, but the War had always been the priority. The observatories were still in use and his clout could get them in easy. There was also a bed and breakfast with a hot tub and more amazing skyscapes a half day away. Or they could go the other way to Roswell and let Newt run amuck with all the extraterrestrial nonsense that had fallen by the wayside since their visitors had started coming out of the sea. And that wasn't far from the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science. 

Dinosaur fossils might not hold as much appeal for Newt since he had fresher monsters to deal with, but he would love showing off how much he knew about them. All this commotion would still be waiting for them when they got back, but it would be a relief to leave it behind for even a little while. Hermann was willing to break patterns and habits for it. Newt had sworn he was willing to follow for once, and he wasn't going to waste that either. 

They had earned whatever sweetness they could find and there was time now to enjoy it. Their tastes weren't always similar enough to enjoy together, but this time felt different. It took awhile for Hermann to realize that the unfamiliar feeling was an equal mix of hope and happiness.


End file.
